


The Fire Inside Us All

by orphan_account



Category: South Park
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-14
Updated: 2016-06-14
Packaged: 2018-07-15 00:30:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7197971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Monster person/Fantasy au<br/>Craig fucks up and instead of healthily resolving problems via communication and honesty, he decides to punish himself. Pure angst.</p><p>Warnings for this: Substance abuse/alcoholism, suicidal ideations, animal abuse (sort of)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Fire Inside Us All

“Shit,” Craig hisses out as the morning light blinds his freshly cracking awake eyes. It wasn’t actually the sun that prompted the sudden awakening, but the his phone notifications going off so often it may have as well been an alarm. It took the boy a good 20 seconds to scroll his shitty android notifications away just to check the time.

5:45am

“Fuck,” he groaned out and blindly grabbed for any bottle of booze that had anything left in it. As they say, hangovers are for quitters. And pillows are for people who don’t plan on blacking out.

Craig peeked out from under his pathetic camp under the bridge, scanning the skies. No sign of any corvians or ‘angels’.  
Dodging the air squads assigned to finding missing persons had been annoyingly tricky. Still, it allowed him to find increasingly shitty holes to host his pity parade.

This was one morning his stomach refused to shut up, so Craig put forth the effort to wander the non populated streets and idly pick at dumpsters behind restaurants. He didn’t have to worry about people at this hour. Even for a hick town 6am is a Godless hour.

Picking out a box of Greek leaves was as much searching as he cared to do. If it wasnt moldy, maggoty, or already being scavenged by a raccoon that was good enough.

Craig didn’t really care much about anything lately.

Although, one of the pawn shops forgot to turn off their display tvs. Craig decided to plop down on the sidewalk because Red Racer reruns were on and he hadn’t had the pleasure in a while.

“Here he comes, here comes Red Racer” he muttered along to the theme song. It really took him back.

After a couple short episodes he noticed a bunch of kids walking the streets glancing at him weird. Checking the time confirmed it was in fact time for the ankle biters to go to school. Thankfully none of the kids really knew who he was. They seemed think he was exactly as he appeared to be: a dirty weird guy with no future on the streets barely bothering to stay alive.

There was an extra air patrol on his way out.

He left the town part of South Park and decided to wander the more rural areas. Adults and high schoolers would be waking up soon. It was best to avoid everyone and everything. Pretty much the entire town,besides the little kids who barely knew subtraction, knew his face at this point, judging by all the posters everywhere.

He supposed he should feel bad for shutting out Token, Clyde, Jimmy, his parents….and. Well. Everyone. But he didn’t. Not really. Craig figured he was doing them a favor. He was better off being forgotten. They were better off without his unpredictable ass in their lives.

It was starting to snow lightly, and his light jacket with his favorite blue shawl wasn’t going to cut it. He’d been through worse. Last week was a blizzard. That was fun.

He sat down by a thinly frozen lake and just kind of stared up at the sky. This was his excuse for a time passing activity. It let him embrace his physical and emotional numbness. It gave him a peaceful time to reflect on why exactly he deserved what he was doing to himself.

It strengthened his resolve for what most would probably call teenage angst. He thought they were probably right. He wanted to prove everyone wrong anyway.

The cloudless sky became a screen for his memories. After a few minutes, Craig was practically back at Tweek’s house, those months ago.

“Agh! Jesus man. I know we’re not actually gay together but c'mon Craig! We don’t -AGH-” came the still shrill teen’s voice with a pause for breath after a particularly stress reaction. “We don’t have to actually break up either!”

Craig took a deep breath, already irritated where this was going. “Tweek, I’m never going to have a genuine life if we keep lying to everyone. Why is our fake relationship status even so important. Are you seriously so selfish that you’d ask me to give up a proper girlfriend, or boyfriend, just so you can avoid some stressful questions from your parents and other friends?” His rant started out monotone well enough, but it escalated to a stern tone that threatened to turn into yelling.

“What?! No Craig just listen to me!” Tweek tried to take a deep breath, but he was already pulling at his hair and closing his eyes. “We, GAH, we don’t have to stop being friends is all I’m saying. W-we can s-still hang out at each other’s houses and stuff! We don’t have t-to give up what we’ve made after all these years.” Tweek’s voice was pleading. To anyone else it could be heard as something more than trying to save face or resist change.

But that’s all Craig heard. He had gotten tired of the town, his parents, his friends, every single person in his life expecting him to do something or be something he wasn’t. Ever since the fake boyfriend thing he’d lived with nothing but obligations, and even for his mellowness they began to weigh down. “Do you really think anyone I try to date is going to be okay with me skulking off to my supposed ex’s house every night Tweek? No one’s going to buy that we’ve been fake dating for like 10 years. What would I tell anyone who asked where I was? The truth? 'Yeah hey I was just at my ex’s house holding him while he slept because he still has nightmares at 19, nothing weird there’. I need to try to find myself okay?”

Tweek had mustered the courage to grab Craig’s hand. “Man C-craig just. I don’t. There’s gotta be a way-” Tweek didn’t get to finish his partially formed thought.

Craig had yelled “Get off me!” while trying to shake the other boy’s hold. But he misjudged where Tweek was. And how firm of a grasp Tweek even had. It wasn’t much of one. The resulting motion ended up back handing the blond boy. It was completely unexpected for both of them.

All Tweek knew was he was on the floor. And everything broke at once for him. He had wrapped his arms around himself, his corvian feathers creating a sort of cocoon. “F-fine,” the sobbing boy wailed. “J-just get out o-of here you dick!”  
Stunned,Craig hadn’t processed anything. He just complied and left.

It wasn’t until he was a little away from his now ex fake boyfriend’s house that his obliviousness cracked. The last decade hit him like a train. Every weird inflection Tweek’s voice ever had when they were hanging out together. Every almost missed glance. Every accidental brush of the hands. Tweek’s hands getting extra shaky when they had to fake hold them in public for appearances.

Tweek loved him. In a few seconds of absolute clarity came the single worst realization Craig could have had:

Tweek was the best thing that would ever happen to him. The only thing that truly could have mattered with his pathetic average life. After breaking up with and assaulting his fake boyfriend, the pathetic human boy finally figured out he loved and should have been loving the twitching harpy boy all along.

He left everything a month after that. He tried shutting up, shutting down, and dealing with his new life but he couldn’t. He was right about one thing at least: No one wanted to date him after that fight with Tweek. Word spreads quick in small towns. He didn’t blame Tweek for that. 

Craig’s rumination was interrupted by a low growl not too far away from his back. He scoffed. “Guess the smelly garbage leaves weren’t exactly hiding my hiding spot,” Craig mused internally. “Stupid.”

The growl turned into a bark. The lunge was predictable. Craig just sort of plopped down on his back from his sitting position. His next sight was a feral dog jumping full force at where his head had just been. Said dog was now sliding down the bank of the hill down to the frozen lake,its nails scraping on the ice.

Craig laughed his ass off while the wild thing tried to get its footing back, only bothering to stand up when he heard the thing was coming back for more. His drunkenness helped not take his animal attack very seriously.

The dog jumped back at Craig, who was making fake martial art taunts at it. In a flash it was almost latched onto Criag’s thigh. However at the last second Craig had kicked his leg up, kicking the beast square in the jaw followed by a series of yelps.

“Shit maybe I’m a drunken master,” the boy laughed out. “Come ooon,” Craig taunted with all the confidence of someone with nothing to lose. “Mutt versus mutt,” he whistled “who’s a good mangey fuck?”. What was the point of punishing yourself and not valuing your own health and safety if you were actually winning?

After regrouping, the dog lunged again in the exact same manner but a little higher. Craig followed up with a half hearted sucker punch, but the dog wasn’t where it appeared to have been going suddenly. A feint.

“Oops,” Craig mumbled right before teeth sunk into his shoulder, taking him down. His next noises were pure wild screaming out of pain as his hands tried to grasp the dog’s upper and bottom jaws. It was only a few seconds before the pain actually didn’t seem as bad. There were actual upsides to being shit faced drunk, pain dampening one of them.

“Good boy,” Craig muttered sarcastically, patting the thing on the head, having given up.

The last thing he heard was a goofy older man’s voice yelling something. Drunk, near passing out, and a dog trying to rip his shoulder off, he could still instantly identify the man as Jimbo the gun happy hunter. His friend Ned no doubt right behind.

What a joke, he couldn’t live on the streets himself for two months without fucking that up. And now he couldn’t even die alone and unimportant properly either. Even his death wish ended in a cliche`.

 

“The boy’s survival is no less than a miracle Mrs. Tucker. The fact that there was a skilled hunter nearby may as well have been divine intervention.” The pious and astonished doctor kept rambling on about Craig’s condition to his mother and father.

Both were crying while tuning out the man to a degree. Their son had returned and that’s all they needed to really know. For two months they had worried themselves sick with what ifs and could be’s. Most couples would have torn themselves apart at the sudden loss of a child. The Tuckers were actually one of the few average people in South Park to actually be healthy together. They relied on each other during those months. Powerlessness to them had been a tough feeling to swallow.

The doctor’s words kept going as the parents held their child’s hand. “Extremely high blood alcohol content. Virtually no clotting. He’s lost a lot in a very short time. He’ll need to stay for at least a day to rest and receive transfusions. However I’m recommending three to watch for infection that in all likeliness hasn’t presented yet. He has an oddly high fever, we need to be careful.”

They didn’t blame him. Not even a little.

Craig, or rather his unconscious body, got a lot of visitors that first day. His room became a cathedral of flowers and cards. Prayers from all the people he’d known closely and never met lingered on his sheets.

Token and Clyde lingered even longer, having been at the bed side only slightly fewer hours than his parents. They offered to keep watch while the Tuckers were forced back away to work.

Bereavement leave only applied to the dead, and the Tuckers worked demanding careers. The world kept spinning.

Craig finally came to the next morning. Token was passed out on his hospital bed. Trapped, Craig feigned to still be out. He hated to admit that he was touched to find one of his best guys there. He also hated he hadn’t lasted long enough to be forgotten about. Before the fake boyfriends drama resulting in Tweek joining the friend group, Craig and Token joked about them, Jimmy, and Clyde being the accidental South Park human squad. It was a happy memory that felt way too far away even with Token being right beside him.

“Stay here a second,” Craig heard from outside the door.

After a minute of talk he couldn’t make out, the door opened, and he heard and felt some shaking. “Token, go get some food and coffee man,” joined Clyde’s voice.

“Yeah okay,” yawned the other friend with a door clicking back shut soon after.

Clyde audibly sat in the chair token had just been occupying. After a few minutes a sigh followed. “How long are you going to keep up the act bro?”

Craig could swear he heard the EKG rhythm mess up as his heart caught for a beat. After a minute of silent deliberation between Craig and his patient friend, the boy leaned forward from his slightly raised bed with a groan. “Hey.”

“….that’s it?”

“Is there anything that's really appropriate I could be saying right now?”

Clyde held back his anger for the sake and decency of not getting into a fight with someone who was almost on their death bed. “I’m sorry. I was a dick. It’s nice too see you again. I was actually kidnapped this whole time even though I had my phone on me. Take your pick man, lie to me, just say something.”

Craig laid back on his bed and waited another minute. “I wish the dog had finished me off.” The chair Clyde had been sitting on toppled backward after an abrupt standing. Clearly that wasn’t what his friend wanted to hear.

He was being pulled forward again, his gown in Clyde’s hands. He could imagine his friend wanted to shake him. His resolve must be iron tight for resisting as much as he is. “Goddamit Craig! You’ve been a gigantic prick you know that?! I don’t know what’s been going on with you since before your running away but I know your moody ass needs to wake the fuck up!”

Clyde was full out yelling now. “Nothing changes when people do this Craig! Nothing gets better by you shutting everyone out! I thought we were tight. Sure you’re abrasive. You don’t sugar coat things. But you’ve never been this…. awful before.” His grip loosened. “Craig, there’s no karmic force out there that’s going to make up for your fight with Tweek just because you’re miserable. He’s not going to feel better if you feel worse.”

Suddenly Clyde was on his ass, his friend having shoved him back with all the force a previously mortally wounded 18 year old could muster. Craig’s eyes seemed to burn holes as Clyde looked up at his friend.

“I never wanted anything to get better,” Craig growled with renewed vigor. “I don’t believe in anything at all after this Clyde. I don’t believe in God, I don’t believe in karma. If some cloud top super hero isn’t going to fucking end me for messing up everything I had going for me and hurting someone genuinely pure and nice then I should goddamit.” Craig sobbed. “He was too good for me and I never got that. I should have gone back and told him I love him. But that would have just hurt him even worse.”

As Craig let everything load out tiny white wisps began to steam off his skin. He began yelling in frustration and yanking at his hair just like his favorite person would do.

“I don’t get why you still want to be friends with me Clyde. You. Or Token. Or why my parents even paid for this stupid hospital visit. I don’t deserve anything don’t you get it?” Craig slammed his hands down on his bed.The sheets were singed now. Clyde was afraid.

“Hell doesn’t exist but I still deserve to burn!,” he bellowed with a faded voice. When he did, his hair flourished in fire and his arms scaled and glowed,resembling cinders. Almost immediately the fire alarm and sprinklers went off. It didn’t do much to douse Craig’s anger but it did stop the fire from spreading beyond his bed.

“Holy shit dude,” Clyde suddenly said out of shock. “Y-you’re an ifrit?”

“What does that have to do with anything?!” he flared. “Jesus Clyde, no one listens to me. No one cares about what I want even when I all I want is to fade away!”

Suddenly Clyde was up again and his fist connecting with Craig’s cheek. Cradling his now stinging arm from punching a boy on fire, the best friend finally admonished “How dare you? All this isn’t for show you cock mongler. I’m not getting into a philosophy debate while you’re suffering from a case of the drama queen. People genuinely care about you and you’re going to keep on whether you like it or not Katniss.”

His voice became gentle again. “We’re going to get you some help okay buddy?” Clyde then visibly steeled himself in front of a still fuming Craig. And then went in for a hug.

Being soaking wet helped to not burn the jock alive in an instant, but it was all kinds of smarts. College theoretical physics and applied statistics smarts.

But it worked.

He was still way hot, but Craig wasn’t on fire anymore. And Craig was hugging back, shyly and reluctantly.

“Yeah. Okay.”

Clyde pulled away, visibly in pain. “….that’s it?”

Craig smiled a smile that said sorry for everything he should be saying sorry for but couldn’t.

“If I could call a fiery bisexual demon a cock mongler and get away with it I would be soooo happy.”

Clyed laughed and flipped him off as hospital personnel flooded the room.


End file.
